Claim the Good No Matter What

There was a little voice in the back of my head when I wrote my blog post on May 31st, Dreams Really Do Come True. It was a quiet one and it was ignored. But the voice tried to make me feel afraid of claiming the family milestone we had when we first went bowling. We've now been going twice a week with great success. But on that first day, we did a new activity as a family of 4 and it was actually fun the whole time. All 4 of us enjoyed it and Tim and I did not feel stressed or depleted afterwards. That was a really big deal. But publicly claiming that victory gave me a moment’s pause. Here’s why:

Sometimes we live in a headspace of scarcity. Like, if you claim something good and enjoy it, you will find punishment around the corner. The good stuff is scarce but if you’re quiet about it, maybe no one will notice and the hammer won’t drop. Does anyone else fear this? I’ve worked really hard on my scarcity mentality. If you don’t recognize how evil this kind of headspace can be, just look at what we’re doing in this country to “Make America Great Again.” The entire idea of deporting Muslims and building a wall centers on scarcity. This kind of nationalism lives in a place of throwing elbows and seeing people as “other” first and a drain on resources. As we know, some critical resources are finite, so any generosity or space created for diversity and acceptance threatens the amount left over for the majority.

I run my own business. And business is another arena where scarcity thrives. Everyone is trying to beat the competition and make the most money. Sometimes even at the loss of the customer either with quality or service. I cannot tolerate this. For me to represent something personally to people I care about, it has to be legit or I’m not doing it. Thankfully, I’m working with a company that lives the antithesis of a scarcity mindset, focusing on helping ourselves by helping others first. We work in teams and those teams do not compete or withhold resources from each other. It’s lovely. It’s the only way I could comfortably do business in the long-term. I literally cannot increase my business unless I’m actively coaching a teammate in achieving their goals or helping a customer improve their health. What a way to make a living! When I’m living in scarcity and fear, I understand the cutthroat mentality that a lot of businesses thrive on. And if it’s between my family or my community, I’m willing to admit, I choose my family. But I’m grateful to be in a business where I can have both. I know how rare that is.

These are some more obvious examples of scarcity thinking. But is the fear of bad following good a part of that in a distant way as well? I believe it is. I think we believe that only so much good can come to any one person in a given amount of time. And if we claim it, bad could come sooner and more intensely. Maybe it stems from my religious upbringing. There is a lot of theology that supports this either by claiming that marking a victory comes from a place of pride and “pride comes before a fall.” Or, that if you are experiencing good, that the “enemy” (Satan) will attack you and your family. Even admitting that I don’t live in that headspace anymore feels like a dumb thing to publicly claim. Not dumb because it’s obvious and no one believes that but because that fear is still there. Who would want to entice the devil?

Perhaps that is where the fear of pleasure comes from. A lot of conservative Christians fear pleasure. No one has ever said that to me outright. But we are really sexually repressed and anything that feels really good, must be sinful. That’s why we work so hard to find joy in God, because that’s the only safe place to find it. We mock “hippie liberals” for their love of nature and the environment. We judge those who imbibe for being addicts or weak. We call women who want to have sex but don’t want to be mothers whores and “baby killers.” Pleasure scares us. And maybe claiming a family victory is a form of that, enjoying a win and taking pleasure in the moment. Or maybe it’s okay, but only if we go on and on about giving God the glory.

No matter. My life has taken a few hits since that post. My tooth drama came full circle when it was extracted but not without extreme pain. Turns out, the nerve that was giving me so much pain ran THROUGH the tooth. Who knew? So, no matter how many needles my periodontist jammed into my gums and cheek, I could still feel it when he tried to extract the tooth. You know what they have to do in that case? They have to drill into the tooth and stick a needle directly into the nerve to numb it. Thankfully, after a shocking jolt and subsequent involuntary sobbing, the pain stopped for good and that shitter was removed from my mouth forever. Apparently the whole implant process takes 6 months, but day one sucked.

A few days after that, on Father’s Day, our house flooded. One of the kids left the toilet running and apparently it was also clogged. So for an hour during quiet time, 2 of the 3 of us were snoozing, the water just ran and ran. From our upstairs toilet to the carpeted hallway, through the floor to the kitchen ceiling below to the kitchen floor. The only thing we’ve really upgraded in our house we’ve had 12 years is that flooring. It’s gone now. Don’t worry, it’ll be replaced. And I’ve been saving so we can easily pay our deductible. But it’s a pain in the ass and there are strangers ripping out things I love and a lot of dehumidifiers and fans making the house almost intolerably hot.

Here are the positives. They’re always there if you’re looking. One, I had 3 dear friends help me on tooth divorce day. 2 of them drove me while I was high (though not nearly high enough). The other watched Penny while I was high. THANK YOU. It’s so beautiful to have people who, on a moment’s notice, are willing to get you your meds and make sure you get home safely. Many friends have listened to the insane tooth drama with compassion and humor. I feel so loved. Two, nothing of sentimental value was lost in the flood and we had the funds set aside to where the deductible doesn’t hurt. That’s a really big deal and I’m grateful to my business for providing us with the cushion we need to do things that really improve our happiness. Things like vacations and savings and not accruing dental debt when I feel I may have bought my surgeon a car at this point.

All in all, I will claim the good. It’s all we’ve got. And it’s enough.

When Patriotism Puts Fellow Americans At Risk

This has been a bat-shit crazy week in the land of the free. I was reading an article on my phone about people on Fox News advocating for Muslim internment camps in this country (Fox News later recanted) while walking through Target's dollar spot seeing all the 4th of July decor. And I just couldn't do it, you know? I couldn't look at the cute cut outs of stars and "land of the free" scrawled on flags while reading inflammatory statements about our fellow countrymen. We're actually talking about repeating one of our most incriminating acts of human rights violations because we're afraid. 90% of the terrorist attacks in America last year were committed by non-Muslims. And 309 people get shot in this country every day. No gun legislation, but let's lock up millions of people on the off chance they might be in the extreme minority and commit an act of terrorism. I was ripping my hair out in the middle of consumer heaven.

I've started struggling more and more each year when it's time to yell hurrah for America. I know how lucky I am to be an American, that I have experienced prosperity and freedom here. I am a white, middle class Christian. My parents are wealthy (though we weren't when I was young). I own my home. I am a stay at home parent. I only work when I want to because I'm self-employed. I say these things to hold both realities - that I am privileged in this country and that this country is really fucked up. 

How do we celebrate America while we actively benefit from oppression? Why the hell are we still celebrating Columbus Day for fucks sake? How can we possibly talk about holding people hostage in this country simply for being Muslim? I want to scream. Is there a way to eat Thanksgiving turkey and not be bitch-slapping the natives we stole this country from? I don't know. I really, really don't know. I know that I'm struggling more and more. And I know I'm not alone. People have been so incredibly hard on Colin Kapernick for kneeling during the National Anthem but I get what he's saying. It's exactly what I'm saying, except he's doing it from the side of a lack of racial privilege. How do you yell hurrah for the country that's actively killing your people in the streets? You don't. You kneel. And pray to God something changes. I respect that.

Is there a way to hold our gratitude for what's working, to enjoy a hot dog and fireworks while still saying, no to the active oppression of others? At what point do our celebrations have a human cost that no amount of flag-waving can deny? How do we say, thank you for your service now can we stop shooting people? I respect the military, the incredible sacrifice that military families make. Hell, I'm from a military family (my dad retired before I was born)! But does gratitude for sacrifice equate to turning a blind eye to the damage we've done to the world? What about what we're doing to the environment? Did you know that Americans with the lowest carbon footprint still pollute twice as much as the global average? We take what we want - whether that be human life, oil, water. We are greedy bitches.

What does it mean to love your country and your fellow man? Is it possible to love our country so much that we want to save it from itself? Can our patriotism be manifested in our activism? Is it possible that Colin kneeling is an act of patriotism? Is he saying, you can do better America and I'm willing to take a hit to stimulate the growth you need to be healthy? Where is the line between love for country and blind enabling? Maybe the guys screaming at each other on C-SPAN (shout out to my man, Bernie) are the ones who love America the most? 

We have an addiction to dominance. We don't know how to deescalate. Look at United Airlines! We don't know how to disagree without violence. It was embedded in our culture from the second our boats hit the shore. Is it possible for an entire nation to go to violence rehab? Is there hope for us? I know this. If there is, whether you eat a hot dog and sing the national anthem or not, the hope will only become a reality if we do something about it. Whether you're proud to be an American or you're ashamed, love your country enough to make it better. We're all we've got and we've got a hell of a long way to go.

Parenting Epiphany

I'm having a bit of a Shaklee Mom moment this week. I was able to attend Macy's walking field trip Wednesday where we walked half a mile to a creek and released the salmon her class has been raising since they were fish eggs. While I was there, I noticed that so many of the children had hacking coughs and were sneezing in a persistent way. Now, it is allergy season in the Northwest, so I know many of these children were not sick with a virus, but mainly reacting to our incredibly green, allergen-potent environment. 

The child whose desk faces my child's was coughing a deep, dry cough, the kind of cough that you know must keep him up at night. I joked with him about calling hospice because it was so bad. I feel like even talking about this makes me seem really judgmental as a parent. Like, get it together, or something. That's not what I was feeling. I was feeling grateful. I'm so, so grateful that I literally get paid on the consumption of my family's Shaklee habit, that my business is large enough that our product usage (almost $500/month!) is completely covered by my commission (many other habits we have are covered by Shaklee, including my impending financial dental apocalypse). 

Watching that poor child cough directly into my child's airspace, knowing that my child cannot be trusted in areas of hygiene, I realized MACY HAS NOT MISSED ANY SCHOOL THIS YEAR DUE TO ILLNESS. Not. One. Day. The evidence was right in front of me that her wellness this year has not been due to a lack of exposure. So not only had my business provided me the flexibility to attend this gorgeous, fun field trip, but it allowed my child to enjoy it to her fullest because she's healthy. Holy cow.

At the risk of using my blog that's more often than not about theology and life to promote my personal business, I thought it would be helpful to share what it is that Macy takes every day in case there are parents out there who are finishing this school year realizing that their kid may have missed more school than is ideal. I want kids to be healthy and happy. And I want parents to feel empowered to help their children. I was raised on these products and am raising my kids on these products. I can't begin to explain the monstrous dividends our family has reaped because of generational wellness, 4 generations now, starting with my grandparents on both sides. I want people to have that. Or at least have access to it.

Macy takes:

2 Incredivites - this is her multivitamin. It has an ingredient called lactoferrin in it that has been found to contribute to the immune-boosting capability of human breast milk. So it's very immune-building as well as covering all her minimum requirements for A, B, C, D (extra D), iron, some calcium, etc. It's a critical foundation.

1 Mighty Smart - this is Shaklee's fish oil (DHA) chew. My kids beg for more every day. They are delish. Most kids aren't getting fish oil daily and even if they eat fish often, our fish population is so incredibly contaminated that regular consumption actually puts them at risk for high levels of mercury and lead being present in their blood. DHA helps with brain development. We've seen this product help kids with concentration, attention and hyperactivity issues. I cannot overemphasize how critical it is that kids get fish oil and that it be pure. Shaklee purifies the oil in a patented process so there is literally NO contaminants. You can't even get that in our diets anymore.

1 Optiflora probiotic - this is a little pearl. Our probiotic has a patented triple-layer shell to protect the very fragile live bacteria. Most companies can only guarantee that their bacteria is alive at the time of manufacturing. We actually have the clinical data to prove that our good bacteria makes it all the way to the intestines. If you think that's simple, remember, those fragile bacteria have to pass through the stomach acid first! If you think your yogurt is doing that; it's not. If you or your family eat processed foods at all, probiotics are really important. Most of the ability to have a functional immune system begins in the gut. If your gut is off, you can't absorb all the nutrients in your food and your immunity goes down. All 4 of us take this every day.

1 chewable Cal Mag - kids need extra calcium because they're literally growing their bones! Do you remember ever getting shooting pains in your legs as a kid, sometimes called "growing pains?" That's your body's way of asking for more calcium in an annoyingly painful way. We started this product daily as soon as Macy started getting those (just as I did when I got them as a kid). If her legs hurt, 20 min after chewing this, the cramps are gone. Also, if she ever gets stomach cramps, same thing. I looked at the label of our chewable Pepto Bismol and guess what? It's just synthetic calcium! So I tossed that and keep this on hand.

1-3 chewable C's - both my kids take 1 every day and we increase it if we know they've been exposed to an illness or are actively showing symptoms.

As a side note, Penny started preschool this year. And she was symptomatic at least 10 times during the school year. But, she only missed one day of school. And I kept her home as a precaution (her fever was below the threshold for keeping them home). On top of her regular regimen (same as Macy's without the added calcium), any time she got a fever, runny nose, etc I made her a half serving of Shaklee's Vitalized Immunity. It's like Emergen-C but it's not synthetic. I just thinned it out with extra water, added some ice and Stevia drops and told her it was her special juice. I think out of those 10 incidents, only 1 of those 10 turned into an actual cold. 9 out of 10, 1 or 2 half servings of Vitalized Immunity nipped that virus in the bud. So thankful she got to go to school regularly so she could have the routine that is so critical for her education and her sense of well-being.

Sorry, one more side note. We only use Shaklee cleaners and personal care products in our house. If your kids are struggling with immunity and you're using Clorox and Tide (no offense to the big guys), that is also costing them nutrients and could be making it harder for them to fight stuff off. Start with laundry and dish soap. You are literally putting those chemicals in your mouth and rubbing them on your skin all day. Shaklee has a Get Clean Starter Kit where you can change out all your cleaners for $99. It's the equivalent of $3400 worth of traditional cleaners and it comes with a lifetime Shaklee membership for free. That gives you 15% off your products for life.

This is one of the parenting mountains I plan to die on. Everyone has their things that are non-negotiable. For me, giving my children a foundation of a healthy, strong, active body is one of mine. The #1 killer of kids in this country ages 3-14 is cancer. The influence I can have on the longevity and functionality of my children's bodies is unparalleled from pregnancy to 18 years old. Some peoples mountains are safety, education, sports, faith - to name a few. And most of those are important to us too. But this is a non-negotiable one for me. What's fun about this one is, it takes a bit of investigating in the beginning to find the company you trust to the tedious raw ingredient to final product testing to make sure your products actually work. And you have to incorporate that expenditure into your monthly budget. But once that's done, you just set up your order and make sure your kids take them every day. Done and done! Mountain climbed. 

If you want to see any of these products or have questions about them, contact me through my Shaklee website: www.ownyourlife.myshaklee.com

The Courage of Commitment

I did something really brave on Sunday. I joined my church community as a member. It took me 2 and a half years to be willing to do that. At my church (it's so fun to say that, like using the word "fiance" right after a proposal), the membership responsibilities are not intensely binding or rigid but I feel serious about making a verbal commitment to a community of people. I waited until I was truly ready. Sunday, I felt ready to be vulnerable, open and shaped by other people in the area of my faith. That is a really big deal. My faith process has been something I have guarded viscerally since we left the churches of Christ. I have fended off many influences over the years and have treated my soul as the precious thing it is. I wanted to tighten that circle of influence and church was left out. To allow it to be shaped by a church community felt threatening for a long time. When you feel threatened about something precious, you circle the wagons. You've got to. If you're not in church for this reason, I commend you. 

After we left full-time ministry, we participated in a local church plant with safe friends. That season (about 1 and a half years) was all about unpacking our pain and we were surrounded with support during that time. It was so special to have church friends our age who weren't threatened by our grief or who felt compelled to defend against it. We were angry. We were confused. We were in shock. It was a painful, but precious time and we hold dear all those friends who held us up and loved us through that.

Then we went through my difficult pregnancy with Penny (where I couldn't sit in the church chairs) and Tim was ready for space when it came to long sermons and regular church attendance. That began a 2 year period where we did not really attend church at all. There were logistical challenges with my pregnancy and afterwards, the mental health stuff did not foster enough flexibility in us to try to be in church with young kids (it can be incredibly stressful). Sometimes attending church is just too hard. 

Once things stabilized at home, (about 2 and a half years ago), I visited my current church on my own. It's called Bridgeport United Church of Christ. One of my dearest friends, Danna, had been inviting me for about a year. She and I have similar back stories with our church of Christ history and professional ministry experiences (read: trauma) and she had found a home there. So right after Christmas, in 2014, I climbed the steps of Bridgeport alone. I was nervous. I can't begin to tell you how scary it can be to walk through the doors of a church. For me, it was the act of not knowing the rhythms of a strange community coupled with the triggers of talking about and engaging in faith activities in a group setting. If you judge people who don't want to keep visiting around, you are out of touch with what that process is like. And if church trauma is involved, forget it. 

So it was scary. But it was also shockingly lovely. I had spent the previous few years charting my own course. I was trusting my instincts, reading a lot, bouncing ideas and experiences off trusted friends and "practicing" my faith. My Reverend talks about the concept of faith as a practice a lot and I love it. I had started my first blog, Mutterings from a Perfectionist, and was actively unpacking my perfectionism and sifting through my values. Let's face it: faith isn't something you hold with full knowledge and certainty. For me, faith has become potentially making an ass of myself and learning a lot by listening. It's a practice. This idea also emphasizes that perfection is actually a barrier to faith versus the goal. Very healthy for me indeed!

I found myself in a room with people who were practicing their faith with activism and community engagement that left my new life in the dust. Not in an invalidating way, but in the way that I knew I could learn from these people and actually grow in the practice of my faith. Before, I was having to tune out church messages to pursue what I felt was right, in particular, obsessive focus on my behavior and qualifying it as sinful or not sinful. I wanted to learn how to love myself and love others. I wanted to be relevant in the world, not separate from it. I wanted my faith to be fused with my passion for activism, not as an act of rebellion from it. I found myself coming to terms with the fact that I could pursue this path on my own as I had been, or I could join a community that spurred me on in this process, that filled me with encouragement, that affirmed my grief about our culture and gave me opportunities to do something about it. Wow!

I didn't know there was such thing as a progressive Christian faith. I had already decided to keep Jesus and leave behind conservatism. But I assumed that meant I could not have church. And I was okay with that. Hell, avoiding church allowed me to leave that painful baggage in the past. Confronting it on top of everything else I was facing in my life, was just too hard. And then I walked into Bridgeport. And it was beautiful. It really moved me. I found my home. I knew it that very first week. And, like a lover who'd been burned, it just took me a really long time to be ready to live in full community with my friends at church. I needed to do church completely on my terms. And I still often recoil when anything is asked of me there. It's a gut reaction. I'm afraid of being used. I'm afraid of saying yes when I should say no. I'm afraid that sometimes yes will be the right thing. I don't want to give. I don't want to serve. I don't want to be obligated. And I really, really don't want to be betrayed again. But I've decided to knowingly look that fear in the eyes and try. And I have stumbled through it even as a visitor all this time. I'm choosing community knowing that for me, it is a bit of a minefield. But I believe the benefit outweighs the risks and that is a huge deal. I am so, so grateful to have found Bridgeport and to have been able to salvage faith community in my life. It was so unexpected and unnecessary. What a gift!

Here are the things I affirmed during the ceremony:

That I profess Jesus as the center of my faith

That I will be faithful to this community

That I will challenge this community to be the best version of itself and to live up to the things we say we believe

That I will allow myself to be changed, shaped and transformed by this community as I live into my called identity as a beloved child of God

Because it was Pentecost Sunday, there was a big focus on the Holy Spirit and it was also our church's 19th anniversary, so many questions were asked of the community and many stories were told about how participation in our church life had made a difference in everyone's lives. It was beautiful. We found that so many of us were transplants from other church movements. We were sojourners who'd found our way home. We ended church with a picnic. There were dogs and children running around and it was a good reminder that community doesn't have to be restrictive or homogeneous. It just has to be honest.

During that 5 year period between our firing and now (it'll be 6 years in a few weeks), Tim and I as individuals kind of went in different directions. And I don't mean opposite directions, just living into the fact that we have different needs spiritually. I don't know what that looks like in the long-term (which caused me great anxiety initially) but at this point, it has looks like me attending Bridgeport and him staying home. As a introvert and moderate, Tim just doesn't feel like church is home anymore. He doesn't really fit in conservative or progressive Christianity and sadly, that doesn't leave a lot of options. He hasn't found a place that really fits and he feels fine without that weekly rhythm. He's not uninterested, but he's not pursuing it either.

It is a tricky thing to "let" your former minister spouse not attend church. I use quotations because it is his decision. If I truly respect my husband and his faith process (as he does mine) then those are his choices to make. And it is a total judgment to assume that he's not a Christian or a person of faith just because he doesn't sit in a pew every week. How many people sit in a pew and then live like assholes? Sorry, but it's true. I can be an encouragement by checking in with him, engaging him in spiritual conversation and just being there for him as a friend. But it is not my job to lead him spiritually and neither is it his job to lead me. We were raised to believe that men are the spiritual leaders of the home. I've even heard people say that it's your job to get your spouse to heaven. I choose not to live in the fear of hell for myself or for my family. I choose to respect my husband's faith process, holding the truth that we are very different in approach, spiritual need and giftedness. And here's the thing - we always were. We're living more honestly now. He's not pushing himself to lead others. He's taking better care of himself. And I'm staying true to my love for him and the family we've made. I have so many friends who've wrestled with this. I know so many women who attend church alone with their children. They receive glances of pity every single week. Guess what? We're not spiritual widows. People change. Things happen. Life hurts and we process that differently. And we love our husbands! When faced with a change of direction for a spouse, we can hold on for dear life, nag until all love is gone or we can release control and live in respect and love. I am not afraid.

The other thing that's fun in a challenging way about this is it forces the church-going spouse to be accountable to him or herself. There's a certain shoulders-back grit that comes from making a spiritual commitment for yourself and your children as an individual. I'm in charge of my faith process. I collaborate with my fellow church members, but my soul is my own garden to tend and that is a beautiful thing. May the flowers grow in your garden. May the fruit rise up to nourish you and your children. May you pursue and work out your faith with freedom and grace. May you find a safety net under you that you never knew was there. That net is big enough for me, my children and for my non-church-going husband. It's big enough for you too.

Representation is Everything

Tim and I just got back from seeing Wonder Woman and I am on fire. I've heard people of color describe how much it meant to them the first time they saw someone who looks like them in the media, how that made them stand taller and feel proud of who they are. I've lived in white privilege my whole life so I heard those stories but I didn't know what that felt like, not to that extent. However, I am a woman and have always identified strongly as such. In fact, on the way home from the movie, Tim and I were discussing our most firmly held identities (between race and gender) and mine is gender. I identify as female before I identify as white. And I know that alone is evidence of my privilege (ask a black male. My assumption is he identifies as black first because that is always the first thing our culture names him). But what I mean about identifying as female first is that I feel so grounded in my gender identity. It is a huge part of who I see myself as and I see my gender as an incredible asset. Of course, not out in the world of male privilege, but I believe in, and have written as such, very strongly in the power of women. Tim enjoyed hearing all my arguments on the way home about how technically, we are the superior sex because we carry and sustain life and to me, that means, the human race begins and ends with women. Sorry, dudes. Although, not sorry. Not really. Quit underestimating us, already.

I have to tell you, as someone who in my heart knows my female-ness (I don't say femininity as that feels like a social construct to me) is a significant contributor to my personal power, it genuinely moved me to watch Wonder Woman. She is so powerful. And not as one of many, but in and of herself. She doesn't join men. She leads men. To see men follow her was healing for me, in particular because I was raised in a church that believed female leadership was rebellion against God. That male leadership was the only way to worship God rightly and to desire leadership as a female is a sign of greed, vanity and selfishness. But know this, men should follow women when they know what the hell they're doing and they're brave enough to not take no for an answer. It did my heart so, so good to see that happen, to see her stand alone in strength and truth and fight for peace. Is that not all our mission? To make sense of the wars of this world, hell, the war in my own city? She is so strong, but her strength is directed deliberately. No offense to the Hulk, but she is not a senseless rage beast (again, love you buddy). She wields her power for good, for love, for peace. Not in a Disney princess way. Dude, lady can kick some ass. And her view of pleasure is freaking hysterical (in case you missed it, she concluded that men are necessary for procreation but not pleasure). I so admire, not just power for power's sake, but discretion in the use of personal power. Above all the superheroes (the Cap comes in a very close second, but he's Marvel so we don't have to decide), she exudes the ultimate discipline, the truest north star, the deepest integrity, the utmost compassion. She is both warm and fierce. She can knock down buildings and want to help animals. This is what it means to be a woman to me. Not because those roles are placed on us, but because we know power does not have to mean might. We know when to wield it and when to show mercy. The world needs powerful women in leadership, now more than ever. And the idea that my daughters will grow up with Wonder Woman being a true hero in her own right makes me honestly excited for how that will equip young women coming after me. How would I have developed in my identity had I been exposed to this film as a young girl? I'll never know. But based on my reaction today, I think it would have mattered.

Her journey from a black and white sense of justice and worldview to embracing nuance and still choosing love (spoiler alert) so mirrored my own spiritual process. I think so many people identify with her story. Steve, her love interest, helps her come to terms with the fact that all people are good and bad, that we have a desire for war and peace within each of us. That has been one of the hardest things for me to reconcile in my adult life, to hold both of those realities and not allow them to freeze me from action. I only want the good to be true and the bad slaps me in the face every day. You can't ignore that and yet I so wish it wasn't the case. But when you can no longer ignore the reality of evil, accept that you can't kill it with a gun because it is inside the person shooting the gun and the one being shot, WHAT THE HELL DO YOU DO? In my life, I do exactly what she did. And I believe many people, many women, do the same. We choose love. We believe in the enduring power of love. We embrace the things that make us one, the points of commonality and we make peace. 

Above all of these things - her representing me, her character, her paradigm shift, the thing that moved me the most was that she never asked for permission. That damn Steve repeatedly told her what she could and couldn't do, wear, be, everything. I know she loves him in the end and he's essentially dealing with someone from an alternate reality, but how many women picked up on the boxes he kept trying to put the wild woman into? Yes, to blend in. BUT, isn't that what they always say? This is what's appropriate. This is what's expected. Who do you think you are? Stay behind me. I got this. I know what I'm doing. Follow my lead. You stay here. It all falls under the basic assumption that women aren't capable. I don't hate Steve but I have felt many, many times the weight of his assumptions. Am I right, ladies? I was raised to follow the rules, to meet or exceed the expectations of others, starting with God himself. This is not something easy for me to shirk off, even though so often it is total and utter bullshit. I know I can do more, be more, contribute more. I KNOW I CAN.

Just because I can't save the world doesn't mean I can't do good. Do the good you can. In your life, in your corner of the world, in your generation, in your family - this is your life. Do something good with it. Don't let the liar tell you it's futile so save yourself. Release yourself from greed and do the good you can do and do it without strings attached. What a world we could live in if we all did our best to do that. To at least try. We must stop asking permission to live our lives, be ourselves, embrace our power, use our voice. Don't let someone tell you what you're about. Show them who you are based on the power you don't let them take. Show them what you're capable of by not backing down. Stand your ground. Hell, take some ground. Stop being so fucking nice. Be the warrior you already are. And follow Wonder Woman’s lead. Do it with grace. Wield your power for good. You don't need permission. So live without it if you have to.

The power of receiving permission falls away when you stop asking for it. Just do what you need to do.

You're Not Perfect. You're Something Better.

I had a friend recently text me in the middle of a very difficult day. I think her text came in response to my post about our family going bowling. What she said really touched me. And at the risk of sounding like a ridiculous braggart, I thought I would share what she said. "You are inspirational. God does a mighty work through you!! I have had friends where I would have thought about how I needed to be more like them. You, my dear friend, make me want to be more like me. It's the best! Thank you!!"

Again, it's kind of silly to publish a compliment. But I thought what she said was so poignant. I know I spent YEARS of my life in the former category, the type of person who was so fed by accolades that I lived in a way so people elevated me as an example of what to be. I wanted that. I wanted to be the best leader, the holiest Christian, the most responsible and caring mother, the untouchable perfect person. Only then would I be safe. And I think that gaping need for perfection came from a place of unworthiness and a need for control. When your filter is low, whatever feedback you get from others might as well be truth. There's no room for someone to assess you and be wrong in their perception. So if I was perceived as less than the best I could be, failing to perform to the highest standard or hinting in any way a lack of integrity or faith, I scrambled to patch the hole in my persona. Because if that was true, I had nothing.  

There are so many problems with this. Primarily, this makes people feel like shit. By living your life to an impossible standard and promoting that in others, you make people feel like shit. Every day. Whenever they interact with you, see your perfect posts on social media or have a moment where their humanity takes center stage in their life you are heaping shame on them for not measuring up. I guarantee you, if you have someone like this in your life, it's actually because they feel like shit about themselves. They may not know it (I didn't). But they are projecting their un-fillable hole onto you to make you feel bad. If everyone doesn't play this game, the perpetrator is losing in a different way. She doesn't feel she can opt out, so neither can you.

Sometimes this comes out in church (my hotbed for performance and shame). We act like everyone should be a leader and being a leader means providing a good example. It's why shame-based "sins" like pornography thrive in evangelicalism. No one can keep up with the perfection so they choose something super-shameful (which fuels the addiction because it creates a shame spiral) and keep it hidden as best they can. Because it's not based on actually being a good person. It's based on appearing to be a good person. 

So the problem isn't the shameful behavior. The problem is someone discovering the shameful behavior. This is why we punish girls for getting pregnant but have no words for the boy who impregnated her. She's the one who appears sinful. So she's the problem. Though if she "solves" the problem with an abortion, then she's a way worse person. Damned if you do, damned if you don't. Jesus responded to this repeatedly, having mercy. This is why men like Josh Duggar get a pass and his wife gets to share the responsibility for his pornography addiction, molestation of under-aged girls (including his own flesh and blood) and repeated infidelities. He'd been doing this for YEARS and his family knew about it, at least the early stuff. The problem became a real problem when it became public. Nevermind that he came home to his pure, modestly dressed wife of five children in as many years having spent himself on another woman. You are unable to take personal responsibility for your choices when you're living in the land of appearances. The shame is up for grabs and can be conveniently placed on another person. If someone in your life never owns their shit and is always blaming others, this dynamic is probably at play. Because owning your shit means you're a piece of shit. It's a lie.

And you may hear ideology at church about how we're all pieces of shit but for the grace of God. So there's this self-hating, God-loving premise that fuels a lack of self-care, grace for self and others, and a genuine self-hatred as a form of worship. DO NOT BELIEVE THIS. Why would God call us his masterpiece, send his Son to die a painful death to save us, make us in his image because he thinks we're pieces of shit and are so lucky to be here at all? HE LOVES US. Not because he's so great and we're so unlovable. Yes he's great. But we're his. Which means we're great too. He created us because he wants relationship WITH US. Not in spite of us. Not because we screwed it up and he had to scramble for a Plan B. I believe God made us human ON PURPOSE. That means that he's not surprised by our frailty, our humanity. He. Made. It. He finds beauty in us, a reflection of his creator self. And again, not because he has super God goggles and we're really just pieces of shit. What if we're actually great? Have you ever thought about that? Yes, we are happier and healthier humans when we embrace each other and forsake greed, violence and hatred. Yes. But those moments when we don't measure up? He knew that was going to happen. And IT'S O.K. 

There's one other way I see this happening. It seems really sweet and "safe" but it's started to really bother me. I'm describing when someone literally has no concept of self outside of God. We've told Christians that they're good BECAUSE God says they're good. They're okay BECAUSE God says they're ok. I get it. When you believe everything begins and ends with what God says, this makes sense. But it's saying that self-love only comes as a response to God saying we're worthy. That implies that if he said we weren't, then we really would be pieces of shit. And I know many people can't go here with me. But what I believe is that even if God changed his mind and decided we were pieces of shit, I don't believe we are. What this has done is affirmed my faith in God but also in myself apart from God. I think it's dangerous to base our entire self-concept on what God says about us because our interpretations of God vary, even if he doesn't change. Is that not just the more spiritual version of what I described above? That I was okay because others were impressed by me. Can we be okay regardless of anyone's opinion, even God's? I know it's a stretch for some. But if we can sever this final cord, what happens is we have a less conditional relationship with God. We can stand on our own feet and interact with him. Obviously not as equals, but as dual participants in relationship. What if we are inherently lovable? Even when we "sin"? Not because God forgives us but because our humanity is not a problem to be solved but intentional? It also frees me from the constant analysis of my behavior and what categorizes as sinful or acceptable. If we're safe forever, can we release the list of do's and don't's and just be loved and loving? I feel like I finally understand that verse "there is no fear in love for perfect love casts out fear." I never, ever could allow that verse to sink into my bones. Maybe this is what it meant? 

What kind of posture would you have in the world when you believed, deep in that un-fillable hole that you are great? As is. Just inherently great. Full stop. How would you treat others? How would you speak to yourself? Would you project your perfect image into the world to reflect your own glory? Or would you feel a quiet confidence, a willingness to be vulnerable, a deliberate embrace of yourself as human, not perfect? I am not an example. I am a human. And I am wonderful. When those things become real to you, you no longer feel the need to convince others of that truth. Or if you do, (in my case right now) it's to free them from themselves not to secure faith in yourself. 

I would like to make one final point about all this self-love and awesomeness. This applies to all mankind, not just people who look like you or believe like you do. I believe that God loves every human, made every human in his image and thinks every human is beautiful. Not every human behavior. Every human. And so please don't take my special words and apply them to special groups. I used to feel threatened by God's lack of special favors. I wanted to be set apart, better, safe, special. I didn't want everyone to be equal. How would I win if everyone gets a participation trophy? There are so many examples of this exceptionalism in the New Testament. I understand it. But let me be clear - that is UGLY SHIT. Do not elevate yourself. God loves Muslims. God loves refugees. God loves poor people, yes even the ones on social programs. God loves Republicans (ouch). God loves Democrats too (yea!) Do not take the beauty inside yourself and draw lines around it. Share the love in your heart indiscriminately. And if you need a reason outside yourself, remember, this is what God does. 

You do you. Love yourself. Believe in your goodness. Give yourself a fucking break. Honor the pain you feel, the journey you're taking, the growth you've experienced. See yourself as someone worthy of compassion, validation and acceptance. As is. Don't set deadlines for your own mercy (I'll like myself when...). Stop pushing yourself now. Accept yourself and figure out who you really want to be. Then pursue it in freedom and love full of grace for the process and for the beautiful person courageous enough to speak her dreams and reach for them. 

There's Only So Much You Can Do

I don't consider myself someone who has fear around dentistry or doctors. I'm the nerd who actually likes putting money in my old cars (if it's planned) because I believe firmly in the value of maintenance. It's a huge reason why nutrition and supplementation make sense to me. Why not just prevent what you can from deteriorating rather than try to clean up the mess of disease after the fact? (I recognize all health stuff isn't preventable so please don't feel any shame coming from me if you have a difficult health situation). 

That being said, I've had a lot of painful dental work done in the last 6 months. I've been framing it through the lens of gratitude because I know so many people can't afford dental work. And even now, that holds true in the sense that sometimes people just go without troublesome teeth. That is not what's happening with me. HOWEVER, the gratitude frame officially broke today. And the pain, fear, frustration and even dread all came pouring out today while the tears trickled out of those giant sunglasses under the big lights of the dentists office. 

Much to my horror, the tears came and came. I could tell it was the kind of cry that needed to happen and that ideally would include lots of sniffling. I did not allow myself that luxury in the chair, mainly because I was not done facing the fear that created the tears in the first place. So in the midst of my fear and pain, I had to bolster myself for more. Here's what happened:

2 years ago, after not having dental insurance for 7 years, I went to a dentist for a consult on a painful tooth. Without doing anything, he charged me $150 and told me I should have the tooth pulled (at 33 years old, mind you) and get a bridge that would cost upwards of $1k. I said thanks and left for a second opinion. I signed up for insurance and went to the place that went with it. They charged me $25 and put a GIANT metal filling on it. That was that.

So I thought. The tooth started hurting again. About 15 minutes every night while I lay in bed not eating or drinking, the throbbing would pulse and eventually leave. Tim had started a new job, which meant work-issued dental at another office. So off I went. Turns out, the initial cavity had gone below the surface of the gums (which was why the filling failed) and they wanted to put a crown on it. And possibly a root canal in the future (they can just drill through a crown for a root canal so the order of crown first is okay). Unfortunately, the tooth had deteriorated to the point that there wasn't enough tooth left to put a crown on.

So off to surgery I went (this was in February). The procedure, called crown lengthening, exposes more of the tooth by removing bone underneath. Couple of stitches and a 2 week liquid diet. Bada Bing Bada Boom. Ready for a crown. Of course, my insurance was used up at that point. And the surgery was scary (totally awake with just Novocaine) and the recovery was problematic because the things they left in my mouth to "recover" were incredibly irritating to my tongue and I was covered in painful sores and couldn't speak. 

2 weeks ago, I went in for the crown prep. This tooth is so sensitive they had to numb me repeatedly. And my jaw was sore for days. But the old filling was removed and I got a pretty white temporary. Today was going to by my "crowning" moment. Take off the temporary, apply the $1k beautiful crown I paid for and FINALLY put this baby to rest. 

Only that didn't happen.

First, when the hygienist went to pop off the temporary, I wasn't numbed at all and he had pliers trying to pull it off. That's when the sobbing started. I thought it would just pop off. It did not. The pain radiated down and down, well after he stopped touching me. It was so painful and I was filled to the brim with fear. I literally wanted to just leave. But they hadn't put my pretty crown on and so they numbed me all up with tears rolling down my cheeks. Then he popped off the temporary. Only half my tooth came out with it. Yes, the tooth that was carefully excavated months ago decided to break, removing all the margins we had worked so hard to create, rendering my beautiful crown sitting on the counter completely useless. There wasn't enough tooth to attach the crown to. 

So guess what? I need another surgery. This time, the big one. The one no one wants to do because it's freaking expensive. And it's the only thing you can do besides just not having a tooth. I'm getting an implant. That means they will pull the tooth and the root, fill the root with titanium, leaving an ugly hole in my mouth (in the front, mind you) for 3 months while my bone tries to make friends with the titanium. Then they screw a crown into the titanium and there's your "tooth." I'm only 35 and it's in the front. This is the only way I feel comfortable going from here even though the time with nothing there makes me feel embarrassed. But an implant has a very low failure rate over a lifetime so if this tooth decides to cooperate once and for all, this will be it forever. 

Of course, all the pain, all the expense, all the time and effort feels as if it was for naught. I know in my heart that's not true. The crown lengthening? Yes, that effort literally fell out of my mouth this morning. But as a maintenance person, I know that I did everything I could to save this tooth (except go to the dentist for 7 years - the one time I delay maintenance!) and that will help me justify this large expense for my family. It's hard for me to spend money on myself, even medically necessary money. Somehow it's easier for me to spend money on myself when it's a massage or clothes. How weird is that? Maybe it's because it's so much cheaper. No matter, I'd rather do something else with thousands of dollars. Thankfully, my dentist felt so awful today (though this was no one's fault) that he refunded me the money for the crown so it can apply to the implant. And he is going to recommend the surgeon for the crown lengthening do the same (he'll be performing the implant as well). Who knows? Maybe it won't cost a fortune with all the credit I have coming. Seriously, who racks up credit at the dentist?  

All of that to say, the divorce proceedings between me and this tooth are coming up shortly. And I can say with confidence, that our relationship is irretrievably broken.